Lost And Found
by Austin Blake
Summary: Set after the events of Not Fade Away, the series finale of Angel. A visitor comes to Buffy with distressing news about someone very close to her heart.


**DISCLAIMER: **None of these characters are mine. Property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and such. But, I thank them for letting me play with them. Or rather, not knowing I am playing with them so it seems naughty. Dedicated to Jessica, who always delivers great perspective on Buffy.

**Lost And Found**

Buffy had just gotten in from some vamp stakings. The Immortal, who she also called James, had gone with her. He kissed her head as he headed off to the weapons room of the new mansion they were living in, on a new Hellmouth: Cleveland. Their time in Rome had been great, but this felt more like a reality. Reality was crashing around her, and fast. She would have to get a job soon. And Dawn would have to get into school. And everyone would have to start their almost-normal lives soon. But no one had lost any steps in the 'stay on the demons and vampires' part of life. The mansion housed a few select slayers, and of course certain friends like Willow, Xander, Andrew...and so forth. Not that Andrew was really a friend... He was growing as a watcher, though. You had to respect that. Although he was probably giggling every time he got to touch a girl. All of this seemed familiar, already; this routine. Going out, slaying the bad, all that. She'd often fallen into routines in life. It's just what happened. But something nagged at her. She wasn't as happy as she knew she should be. She sighed, spotting Xander and a new slayer, Andrea in the living room, and ducked back outside into the cool night air.

"Excuse me? Ms... Ms. Summers?" The voice came from a man in a trenchcoat, hands in pockets, standing near an alley. He had a hat drawn down low, so the light from the street lamp cast a shadow on his face. He took a few steps closer, slowly. "You're a hard woman to get a hold of."

She perked up at her name, but realized quite quickly that this was going to be a strange encounter; she seemed to only have that sort. Unafraid, she walked over towards the man in the trenchcoat. "I'm feeling a little underdressed here," she said lightly, looking him over. "Who's trying to find me?"

He lifted a hand from his trenchcoat - a green one - and removed his hat to reveal the same green on his head, which offset his red eyes and bleached hair. The horns, however, garnered attention all their own. He had a little bit of a somber expression on his face that he forced into a smile.

"Me."

He took a small step back, wary. "Don't be put off by my looks, Sugarplum. I'm playing for the home team... or at least, used to." He offered her a hand, still cautious. "The name's Lorne."

He was a demon, for sure. Even Xander could have figured that out. Whether he was truly good or bad, well, that was up in the air. Buffy couldn't tell yet if he was telling the truth. And really, weren't a lot of peo- err..demons, neutral, anyway? He wasn't attacking her, anyway. For which she was thankful. She eyed him once more before extending her hand to his, shaking it lightly. "Nice to meet you, Lorne. I guess you already know who I am."

"That I do, Ms. Summers... er, may I call you Buffy? It's not like I don't enjoy the formality - a touch of civilization in such an uncultured world - but, considering our mutual friend, I feel I know you already." He gave quick glances around. "That, and a feeling of hospitality to invite me in before anyone sees me that might arise from being on a first name basis would definitely play in my favor as well."

She tilted her head. "We have a mutual friend?" She wished she could say she couldn't possibly run in the same circles as him, but sadly, she did. He might be lying about their mutual friend, but he didn't seem threatening in the least. And with a house full of slayers and witches and such, she wasn't fearing for anyone's safety. "Please, come on in," she said, as she gestured towards the door. She lead the way, opening it for him. When he was inside she closed the door. "I- well, what friend do we have in common?"

The hat was in both hands in front of him, and he wrung it nervously. His head was lowered as she mentioned their 'friend'. "You might want to sit down for this. I have news that's not exactly going to be easy to hear."

He moved away from her, further into the room, keeping his back to her as if it somehow made it easier not seeing her face. "It's about Angel..."

He couldn't see her face. But something changed on it. She was still inquisitive, but she found herself wanting to put off hearing what this demon had to say. Worry was etched in her face. When it came to Angel she..just...well, this couldn't be good, could it? Not by the way he was acting... Buffy suddenly felt they were too much in the open. The library was a small room with only a few stained glass windows, and no one would be in there. She cleared her throat. "Please, come this way..." She lead him down the hallway a little bit, into a room of dark wood and red wine colored couches and chairs. She lingered, unsure what to do, choosing to sit down on a loveseat. For a girl who usually felt so in charge, this was new.

Lorne followed her, still unsure about how he was going to get out what he was going to say. On the one hand, she was a strong girl from what he'd heard... on the other, maybe she'd been through a lot, and this was the one straw too much. He sat beside her, though keeping a comfortable distance away. He knew he was still a stranger to this girl, and, well, she killed demons for a living.

"Now, just so you know, he did something very brave and stupid and courageous and... stupid... and... God, what I wouldn't give for a seabreeze right now." He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and patted his forehead, averting his gaze from her for a moment. A pause, then he raised his eyes to hers. "He loved you, Buffy. Right 'til the end. You need to know that. And it wasn't just the immortal being in him. No, it was the man. Everything I ever read off him told me of a love in his heart the very fires of hell couldn't shake, and an unwavering faith in you that to this day remains unbroken. But see..." He sighed, lowering his head. "He fought a fight he knowingly couldn't win, just to set back the forces of evil a couple of hundred years. To maybe give those who deserved it a fighting chance. Me? I watched. It was all I could do. I told him I'd had enough, but... I just had to see how the universe wrapped itself up. All my life, I've been reading people's paths for them... but this, I could never see unless it was with my own two eyes. And Buffy..." He looked up at her again, tears welling in his eyes. "It was glorious. He gave them no quarter, no mercy. He didn't stop moving until there was nothing left of him to keep on fighting. He..." He coughed, stifling the tears from falling.

"...he died a champion."

Buffy would really have liked to focus on all the good things that Lorne had mentioned. But only one word hung in the air. Died. He was a champion, sure. He was more than that... but died? Dead? No. "Impossible," she said, knowing it was her stubborn streak stalking. She wanted to refuse to believe this. "There has to be a mistake. Angel was too..." Too what? Was he not capable of dying? Ashes to ashes…dust to dust... No. She shook her head. Lorne had had the same forlorn expression on his face this whole time. Something was sticking in her head. It was that word, dead. Dead. Died. Gone. Never gonna see her again. She slowly started to realize that this, this wasn't a joke. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't to play her. This was real. This was true. This was her greatest fear realized. "He was...fighting," she said, confirming it. "That's how he...would have wanted to..." Go out. A single tear began to draw itself down her face. She felt strangley calm. She had always thought she could feel Angel. She hadn't noticed a change. Had she been too busy? Forgotten him? Had she never really had that power? She wasn't sure what more this demon could offer her. She wasn't sure any of her friends could offer condolences that would matter. Angel was gone. And that was the end of something more important to her than almost anything else.

There was a brief silence before Lorne was able to regain his composure enough to continue speaking. And when he did, all he said was, "There's more..."

"More?" As if there could possibly more. She felt like a heavy weight had been put on her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. She was frozen. She wasn't even herself anymore. She was starting to break down. "What else?" she asked in a robotic voice.

"Well, see... it's a tricky thing, souls. They're supposed to go to the ether, then pass on to their judgment." He smiled a bit, solemnly. "But we both know our Angel was a special case, don't we? Already been judged by a tribe of Gypsies to a sentence of eternal torment for his unsouled crimes as a vampire. Well, Buffy..." He actually moved to hold her hand. "It seems that even after death, his penance still holds. He has no peace, no happiness. The curse that restored his soul wasn't meant to be anchored to his mortal coil. No, it seems that when the Gypsies say forever, they mean it."

He struggled to get the rest of the words out. "He's still here, Buffy. Trapped in the place he died. His soul takes up residence at the Hyperion Hotel."

She was stunned. "Well souls, sure...they're a bitch," she said, not quite processing all of this. She was trying to make light of this situation, because her brain was not accepting it. She didn't even notice his hand on hers. She couldn't feel it. Nothing registered. No peace or happiness for Angel? After all he's done?

"The gypsies..." Her brow furrowed. "So wait. He's...he's not dead. Not dead at all. He's...he's what, like a ghost?" A flash of hope was in her eyes. "The gypsies actually did something right, looks like. I mean, how hard can it be to..." And as she said this she realized how hard it would be, "put a soul back in a body...that doesn't...exist..."

She looked up to Lorne. "Oh."

Lorne sighed hard, unsure if anything he said would be of any comfort to the girl. "I came with the hope that maybe... I don't know. I know that friend of yours works major mojo and..." His head hung low, and his eyes closed. "He just doesn't deserve this, Buffy. He's in so much pain, the whole building psychically shakes from it. I don't even have to read it."

He raised his gaze to hers once more, eyes pleading. "You know him better than I do. Don't you think he's suffered enough?"

"More than enough." Buffy looked crestfallen when Lorne spoke of the building shaking, and all the pain and suffering. But she couldn't...she couldn't fall apart in front of Lorne or anyone. She pushed her sadness away. Because...this was fixable. It was totally fixable. Her other hand put itself over the one Lorne had on hers. She'd somehow become aware of it. "You came to the right place." If there was anyone who cared about helping Angel, it was her. And if there was anyone who could help with the problem, it was well...

"We'll need Willow."

-----

"Well...of course...I'll try...it's just..." Willow lowered her voice, mostly speaking towards Buffy, as if afraid of disappointing Lorne. "I've never heard of this being done before. I mean..once you're gone...once a vampire's body is ash..." Willow was thinking. "But Darla. Spike!"

Buffy very quickly said, "Angel hates Spike."

"We're not going to use him for help, silly, it's been done to him. He was ash, and now he's back. It's just..my mind was muddled..." She didn't say it, but wordlessly she expressed to Buffy that she too really felt the loss of Angel. Angel had always been there for Willow.

Buffy turned to Lorne. "We should leave right away."

Lorne nodded. "Sure. I've got the ol' Plymouth outside. And if one of you dears would rather get out to fill 'er up in the public eye, it'd be most appreciated." He smiled and stood as if to take his leave, glancing to Willow. "You ever summoned a spirit before?"

Willow gave a reassuring smile as she stood up. "I do it all the time. It's no biggie." Then she started stammering, "Not. that. summoning Angel... won't be..you know...important. - It just won't be hard." Her voice had that sympathetic everybody's-best friend tone. Buffy was stuck on one thing. She had remained seated. Her head tilted, and her eyebrow arched.

"Plymouth?"

-----

It was a half hour later. Buffy and Willow had explained what they were doing to Xander and Dawn, and told them to let the rest know. Dawn took the news especially hard, hugging her sister like there was no tomorrow.

After plying Dawn off of her, Buffy and Willow had collected their overnight bags and gotten into the car with Lorne. They let him drive. Buffy rode shotgun. The endless road stretched out before them. Willow sat in the back. Aside from her overnight bag, she had an additional large bag of supplies. She was currently going through a book, her head dipped down. Buffy looked over to Lorne. "It's weird we never met... I always, well, I thought...going to see Angel would just be a bad idea. It never worked out when I'd gone to visit him in L.A in the past." She shrugged, clearly regretting that decision, now.

"No harm, no foul, Sugarplum. If everything goes as planned, we'll all be sipping lattes by morning! Ha ha!" Lorne laughed, trying to keep a light mood. That, however, was ruined when his face straightened and he cast a worried look at Buffy. "I didn't just jinx, it did I?" He turned his attention back to the road. "I don't think I could handle the caustic karma if I did..."

"I like lattes," she murmured. But she knew that a quick fix wasn't likely in the cards. Things just didn't work like that, in her favor. "But I don't think you jinxed it," she added, looking out the window.

Willow's head comically peeked up between Lorne and Buffy. "Hi," she grinned sheepishly. "Umm... I kinda...need to know something." Her face changed. "I need to know how...and well, the elements of...how he died."

"He was staked in the lobby by an imp." Lorne's face grew straighter, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I dragged him in there after some of the larger demons tossed him about and forgot where they'd put him. Then that damned imp snuck in and..." He bit his bottom lip, and hard. "I should have seen it coming. I should have done something. He tried to fight it, but he..." His voice trailed off into silence.

"An imp?" Buffy hadn't even known those existed...and now the damn thing had killed her...had killed Angel? Willow, however, knew of them.

"They're crafty creatures. Easy to underestimate. It wasn't your fault, Lorne." Willow had taken a shine to Lorne. How could you not? It's not that Buffy didn't like him, it's just...she was preoccupied. "A stake is hard to fight off. It's not like you get hit, and can recover. It's unfair. I mean...to Angel. Not to the other vampires. They deserve it. Angel didn't."

"There's something else." Lorne nodded to Buffy. "Check the glove box." Inside she'd find something that resembled a small scroll with ancient, yellowed paper that looked fragile to the naked eye, but when touched it felt thick and sturdy. "I picked it up from a friend. It's a summoning enchantment. Thought it'd come in handy if you... well, wanted to see him."

Buffy now had the scroll and was looking it over. "You must have some interesting friends," she said with what was the promise of a smile to come. The smile would come when Angel was...back. Restored. All three-dimensional and such.

Willow asked, "Does the spell make the body reappear, corporeally? Cause that'd be really nifty. All we'd have to do then is just pop the soul back in."

"No. It just summons a visible version of the soul from the astral plane." Lorne was quiet for a moment. "It's not always a pretty sight, though. They tend to reflect whatever the soul is or has experienced."

Willow glanced at her friend. "We don't have to do..."

Buffy interrupted her, though. "Yes we do."

And that was that. Willow certainly wasn't going to contest her. Willow lightly said, "Okay." She leaned back again, flipping pages in her book. She resumed her heavy studying. She wasn't quite sure how Spike had managed to come back, or how Darla had. Except...those two comebacks had a connection. And it would be pointless to try to avoid it. Her face appeared again. "You guys... the only two vampires to come back from dusting have been raised by Wolfram and Hart."

"Don't think I haven't thought it, Red." Lorne replied. "But trust me, as someone who's been in the belly of the beast, it's not a good idea. Very dangerous. Angel wasn't their favorite person, **especially** at the end."

"We can do this," Buffy said. "On our own. Team..us." Willow repeated, somewhat dismally, "Team us." Buffy was worried that Willow wasn't coming up with solutions right away, although she knew it would be weird if she found them so easily. An hour later, and Buffy had her feet up on the dashboard, looking through one of the magic books. Willow was also immersed in one. She was mumbling things.

-----

It had been a long trip, but finally that black convertible pulled up to the front door of the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles, California. Lorne let out an exhausted sigh, full of finality, and shut the car's engine off. "Well... here we are."

Buffy starred up at the hotel that loomed in front of them. She'd never been here. But she could picture Angel going to and fro, from this place. Willow grabbed the books, the scroll, and her bags. "Come on Buffy," she said lightly. "This is a good thing. We're going to get him back."

Buffy faked a smile, grabbing her own bag. "Yea." She just wished she could be more certain. They let Lorne lead them inside.

Lorne entered the building and into the main lobby. Once inside, they saw the place was in shambles. Debris consisting of plaster, concrete, and wood was strewn about everywhere, and part of the hotel was even missing enough to where the night sky could be seen directly above. A clean-cut circle that'd went through the ceiling and all floors could be seen, the edges charred with an obvious mark on the floor. The place looked like a warzone.

Still, one area was clear: the lobby floor. It looked as if someone had moved the trash away and tided up, and in place of debris had drawn a large, intricate magical circle with various lines and runes weaving throughout it. And best of all... it looked like blood. Lorne moved towards this spot, removing his trenchcoat and pulling up the sleeve of his fabulously purple silk shirt. Various scars across his wrist and forearm could be seen, some wounds fresh and seeping.

Lorne had a dark, determined look on his face. "Ready when you are, Red."

"The place could use some work," Willow remarked, trying to lighten up the situation. "I can heal you," she said to Lorne, "After I do this mojo." She was referring to the scars across his arm and wrist. They didn't look pretty. Lorne was clearly a dedicated friend.

Buffy was staring at the floor. "Let's do this."

Willow put one of her bags down. "Okay, first order of business is to get his astral form down here, and put his soul in it. And that, is in my book for sure. Just...stand back." She stepped up to the circle, which was now buzzing with magical power. And even still, Willow believed she could sense Angel. He had strong anger, if her reading was right. She drew out a silver bowl from her bag, and opened a bag of crushed sandstone, dumping it inot the bowl. Some small bones were added into the bowl. A candle was withdrawn, lit, and wax was soon enough dripped into the bowl.

"Incento," Willow said with authority, and the bowl was suddenly aflamed. The candle was handed to Lorne. And another was lit and given to Buffy. Willow held an old book in her arms. She began to read from it, the scroll placed on the opposite page. It was that which she focused on first. "Vicaenta Imorae Encatede iva Bene." She managed to hold the book with just one hand, and put her palm faced up, over the flame. "Alora Hove en Opeus Cuide." The flame drew higher. "Alora Hove en Opeus Cuide."

The flame drew even higher, and a smoke began to dissipate from it. Willow began chanting that same phrase over and over again. The smoke moved, swirled, grew in size. Somehow, it started to take shape. It was a body. A limp body. Facial features began to become distinguished. Willow switched to the other page of the book. "Powers, I command thee, restore this soul to this apparition. Restore this soul to this apparition." She concentrated on Angel. The limp body moved. It was done.

Yes, it was done. But was stood before them was not the Angel they remembered. His face was twisted and contorted with that of constant agony, and spatters of blood covered his cheek and mouth. He had a hole over his heart, seeping rivers of blood that dripped upon the ground, only to vanish to nothing. He was missing his left arm, torn from the socket, and a few tendons and muscles still very graphically hung on. Slashes and tears covered his body, which was clothed in tattered, black shreds that at this point only resembled clothing. Tears fell from his eyes, but even they were black with blood. He was barely recognizable. Whatever he was enduring, it was beyond torture.

Lorne spoke quietly, "Don't step over the circle."

Angel looked up for a brief moment from his pain-ridden pose, only to catch eyes with Buffy... only he had none. Yet, still, he spoke, his voice racked with agony. "B-B-B... Buffy...?

What was before them could hardly be considered Angel. Yet... it undeniably was. Buffy and Willow both had a hard time accepting this fact. Willow stood near Lorne, who might have been a bit more prepared for what they were going to see. Willow had seen gruesome things...but this didn't compare. And it was worse when it was someone you knew, cared about. And Willow knew, this was toughest for Buffy. Buffy. Who stood there in shock. Trying to be strong, but feeling like she was failing. Her lips quivered slightly, a telltale sign of pain.

"Angel," she said in a whisper. Lorne and Willow might not have heard it. But Angel would have. And Buffy, after the initial shock was no longer seeing what the others were seeing. She was seeing Angel as she'd known him. The rest of this was just...a facade. Willow knew she could change the form to look how they wanted it too, but it'd be only helping them in trying to not see the problem they were really dealing with. Little did she know that Buffy didn't see that anyway. Buffy felt a rush of emotions - too tangled to unweave at the moment. She was overcome with the need to fix things, right away. "We're here to help," she said, in a voice that was now audible. "Whatever you're going through...it's going to end."

Angel shook his head, slowly at first, then violently. "N-No... not real... n-not real..." His eyes shut tightly, and he seemed to writhe in pain just by existing. "G-Go away... GO AWAY!" His words yelled, but trailed off into pained sobs. He tried to hide his face with the only hand he had left, still shaking his head, refusing to believe that Buffy was actually there. "...n-n-not r-real..."

Buffy wanted more than anything to be able to touch him, hold him. But it was impossible in this state. Tears welled in her eyes as a reaction to seeing Angel this way, but she refused to let them fall. She frowned, visibly pained at this sight. "Angel, Willow, Lorne and I... we're here to help. We are real, I promise. We're going to get you back." They had to get him back... "So just hold on, okay? Hold on."

Angel turned his back to her and moved to a sitting position, though he still hovered a good four feet off the ground. He lowered his head, trembling. "Why won't it stop...? ...what didn't I do right...? Why does it sound like her..? ...l-l-like...HER!"

He was breaking down, right in front of them. But chances were, this wasn't the first time he'd been broken in this state.

"Angel, it's me," she said in a pained voice. "It really is, I promise. I'm here. To help. We-we all are." But Angel wasn't looking at any of them anymore. Buffy turned to Willow. "How do we fix this?" Willow had a scared look on her face. But she tried to be brave for her friend. "I have some theories...I just...I need to iron out the details..." Which was a bit of a lie. She was still clueless. She motioned to Lorne, grabbing the bag full of books, and the two went off to research. That left Buffy. With Angel. An Angel she'd never seen… not just physically, but in character...she'd never seen him so defeated. So hurt. So disbelieving. "I know this must be what broken feels like, but I assure you, you're going to be fixed," she said encouragingly, but in a soft tone.

Angel laughed lightly, almost crazed, before muttering through the ethereal mists. "Broken... just like cookies." He let out a pained whimper, stifling sobs just to be able to speak. "I don't want to wait anymore. I know... I know it's s-selfish... but I don't. They can pick and they can scrape and they can bleed me for as long as they want... I'm not here. I'm with her. Where I'm supposed to be." Angel stood, his footsoles still hovering a yard above the floor. He yelled up to the heavens, although they weren't necessarily who he was speaking to. "YOU HEAR ME! YOU CAN'T TOUCH ME! YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE!"

He turned to look towards Buffy, still believing her to be an illusion. He smiled, his teeth pink with blood. "You can't hurt me anymore. You think you can just wear her face because she's everything that embodies happiness to me, and I'd just fall apart and become fodder for the fire? Well, think again. Because all seeing her again does just reminds me of what good is capable of in this world. It reminds me of hope, and strength, and beauty... and that I did what I had to do to keep those things in a world that didn't want me." Slowly, his left arm faded into view, his wounds becoming less apparent. "Doomed from the start? Maybe. Damned since day one? Probably. But you can't show a man hell when he's already tasted heaven."

Then, just that moment, he stared determinedly at her, his astral form as new as the day she'd first seen him. "Go ahead. Do your worst."

Buffy didn't know to who he thought he was yelling to. Or exactly… what he was mumbling about. She wanted to believe...that maybe he was talking about her. But that was selfish of her. And there was no time to be selfish here. Of course, what else could she do? She was supposed to comfort Angel, she decided. But how could she do that when he refused to even recognize that she was there, or real? But then...he turned around. He faced her. He was yelling, but she did not step back. She was scared for him, but not of him. He thought she was evil… maybe he thought she was The First, shapeshifting... The things he was saying, well...if a girl could swoon while her hunny looked like...that. It must be true love. And cliche as it was, that was the only thing that sprang to mind. She focused on his eyes, willing him to see that it was her, for him to see this was no deception, to feel her presence, to trust her if he could.

"I love you. I love you Angel." Silence. "And you can yell, and rant, and not believe that it's me, but my love isn't going to change." She was still...almost blown away, just by the power of his words. The things he said...they were things every girl dreamed of hearing. But not in this circumstance. Not if she couldn't have him. "Angel," she said gently, "Willow and Lorne are working on a way to bring you back. Corporeal form. But right now you're stuck in the ether..or whatever...I just...I don't know the terms..." She felt so insufficient here. She shouldn't be in charge. She wanted to crumble to pieces. Who was this fake girl, who acted all strong? Angel made her melt inside. Melt with warmth and love and somehow, he conveyed to her, through all his madness, that they would get through this. She believed in him. In his strength. He had held out this long. He could hold out longer. And when he got back...he'd be okay. Cause he had to be okay. She stepped forward, but caught herself before she entered the the circle. She wanted to embrace him. But..that was kinda impossible.

"Your hell is almost over." And she hoped to God she was telling the truth.

Angel's eyes, which he had now, squinted as if focusing through the mists. "Buffy...?" His hand instinctively reached for hers, his body floating to the very edge of the circle that contained him. His arm stretched past it though, wanting so very much to touch her, to believe. He smiled, pure tears welling in his eyes. "You still my girl?"

She smiled through tears that had quickly formed. She knew the word to say. And there was only one. "Always." Her hand outstretched to put her pam up against his, or the idea of his. It was enough that the motion was made, the gesture, at least. She felt nothing, physically. But emotionally - again, she was overwhelmed. She smiled, looking at him, but it was a sad smile. Because as happy was she was to get him to believe she was who she was, this situation was far from good.

And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Willow burst in with Lorne. "We have a problem." Lorne spoke up, "See kiddies, it's been 3 days since Angel died." Willow then spoke, "And it'll be four in two minutes so we really, no time." Willow went into authoritative mode. "Sit in a triangle around the circle, have a lit candle," she ordered.

Buffy hopped to it. And so did Lorne. Time was of the serious essence. Willow took her place at the third point. She didn't need a book, it appeared. "Focus on Angel in your mind, and stay concentrated," she said. She had a crystal in her palm, which she held out. The crystal looked normal. Buffy and Lorne concentrated, eyes closed. Willow was silent; her eyes open, focusing on the crystal. She was a powerful witch, and she was one of the few who could pull this off. Her eyes narrowed, all focus on the crystal. She was chanting something under her breath. The clock was ticking... Willow concentrated as hard as she could, then threw the crystal into the circle. It broke through the barrier and it exploded over Angel.

The resulting explosion sent a mystical blue shockwave out in a full radius that was enough to shatter the remaining windows. The mists shattered like glass and Angel's body dropped to the floor with a resounding thud. On his knees, and now apparently naked and covered in what looked like a pale blue jelly, Angel hugged his arms close to his chest, as though extremely cold. He struggled to breathe, gasping for air, though after a few moments he calmed enough to send a small smile towards Buffy, only to fall over on his side, in a fetal position.

As fast as was slayerly possible, Buffy rushed to his side. She pulled his head into her lap, cradling him, running her hands over his body, which felt cold. She didn't mind the blue jelly, although it was weird. Willow and Lorne looked to each other, happier than words could explain. Willow had done it. And now...Angel was naked. That...was a little awkward. Yet it didn't seem weird for them to leave. They both missed him too. And Angel would probably want to get a full report from Lorne on what had gone down. Buffy continued to tenderly stroke Angel's pale skin, whispering down to him. "It's okay. It's okay."

As exhausted as he looked, the smile on Angel's face was constant. He managed to speak after a few sharp exhalations. His voice was quiet, however, almost weak and barely audible. "Buffy... I..." His voice trailed off, too quiet to hear at her current distance.

"Shhhh," she soothed. "Don't try to talk." She ran her hands over his hair, cupping his cheek. He was weak. She looked up to Willow and Lorne. "He needs blood. There has to be a butcher around, right?" She didn't have wait for an answer. "Find one." The two took off. Buffy was left with an exhausted Angel in her lap. She closed her eyes, so glad he was safe, so glad he was here. "When I thought I'd lost you..." She never finished her sentence. The two waited in silence.

"N-No... Buffy... I..." Angel motioned for her to come closer, unable to find the strength to put volume behind his words. She leaned her head down, putting her ear hovering just over his lips. His voice was merely a whisper, but that was all he needed. "I'm breathing..."

She dare not move her head. She replayed what he'd said in her head over and over. Finally she moved her head so she could get a look at his face. She looked to his chest. She put a hand over where his heart was. She stayed very still. And that's when it happened. His chest rose, her hand with it. And then, it fell. And it kept happening. Her mouth was agape, her eyes wide. What did this mean?

He reached up to her with his head, placing his lips against hers. Softly, but passionately, and above all... warm. He never thought he'd live to see the day where he got to feel this again. She didn't remember the day long past that the Powers That Be swallowed up... but he did, and had dreamt of nothing else since. She felt his lips, his hot breath, and easily moved her lips against his. So many words, unspoken, were told in this kiss. He would feel wetness on his cheek. She was crying slow, meandering tears of happiness.

Happiness untainted for the first time in what felt like forever.

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End file.
